


When Worlds Collide

by orphan_account



Series: Through all of Time [6]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-02
Updated: 2011-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another time when the boys met ... another time, another place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Worlds Collide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asparagusmama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/gifts).



The women at the manor house put up no resistance. A party was detailed to smash down the door of the church and stable the horses and Colonel Lewis of the New Model Army swung down from his horse, removing his helmet to address his troops.

 

“Men! It has been some months now since we routed the Royalists at Naseby and the Lord’s work is nearly done. With this nest of papist vipers cleaned we can return to our homes and families to give thanks to God for a job well done.”

 

Loud cries of “Amen to that” came from the assembled troopers who wheeled away to care for their mounts, all save the party detailed to accompany their Colonel into the house.

 

He turned around and walked purposefully to the front doors, grabbing a servant on the way to guide him.

 

Lady Innocent and her daughter Laura were standing in the receiving room, dressed in costly mourning gowns, calm but pale, only the mother’s constant touching of an ear-lobe betraying her fear. The Puritan eyed them with distaste. The brocades in their dresses would have kept his blacksmith father and their eight children for a year in bread. Casting a glance around the room at the silverware and ornate paintings, he made a sound of disgust.

 

“Widow Innocent, I am Colonel Robert Lewis and I have orders from the Lord Protector that your property is to be seized for the good of the Commonwealth. You and your family will not be harmed and allowed to leave with enough personal belongings as I judge needful.”

 

“That is Lady Innocent, Sir and I presume that our hard-earned goods will be going to fill the coffers of that common upstart Cromwell?” Her daughter, also a widow, put a hand on her mother’s arm and hushed her.

 

“You would do well to listen to your child, Woman – she seems to have more sense than you do. The New Order has come. God’s work will be wrought on earth and your kind has had your day. Hard-earned you say? Hard earned by the sweat of your tenants, I’d say. Now, prepare to pack your things and leave.”

 

“Sir,” the daughter’s tone was altogether more placatory and pleading “Have pity, it is only months since I lost both my father and my husband at the battle in Naseby. We are a house in mourning. Can you not find any kindness in your heart and allow us a little more time? We have nowhere to go and no friend to help us. Does not the Bible speak of mercy to widows and orphans?”

 

“Tempt me not, harlot!” Retorted the Colonel, for she was, even if he wouldn’t admit it, very pretty. “It is also written “you shall not suffer the witch to live” and I am sparing your lives,  
Papist whores though you be.” His tone dropped to a menacing hiss “Perhaps you should have thought better of it before siding with the Royalist bloodsuckers.” Then he turned to his troopers, lined up behind him and said “Start to collect up anything of value. Leave them their clothes and a cooking pot.”

 

Ignoring the weeping women he started a tour of the house, going first to the upstairs rooms, making a mental note of the worth of the objects he found. He would give a written account of everything taken and it would be passed into Cromwell’s own hands … and the Lord help any man of his troop who had helped himself to one farthing.

 

One of the bedrooms was locked and he descended the stairs to demand it be opened – no point in destroying the building when it could be used to good purpose as a refuge for the poor or infirm.

 

“The key, if you please, Mistress Hobson.” He knew of this family. The daughter, Laura had married a local squire and while not titled was still one of the hated gentry.

 

“It is only my bedroom, Sir, I beg you, for modesty, let me …”

 

“The key, Woman!” He held out his hand, his helmet still tucked under his other arm. The younger woman fumbled at the chain on her belt and produced a large iron key but followed him up the stairs.

 

It may once have been a bedroom but there was no bed in it. A large crucifix hung on the wall and on a table by the window were a chalice and paten. A statue in the corner caused him to spin around on the woman behind him.

 

“Papist idolators! Not enough you disgrace God’s sight with a church for your own personal use but you harbour this filth in your house in denial of the Ordinance of the Commonwealth. You will all die for this.” He strode to the doorway and shouted down the stairs “Hooper! Up here now! Remove these abominations from my sight!”

 

As his orders were being carried out he leaned against the window embrasure and glared out at the countryside, fighting to control the righteous anger that was boiling in him.

 

“Grant strength to your servant, Oh Lord and be his shield in times of trouble,” he said aloud.

 

“Finished, Colonel,” Hooper announced, having bundled the offending items into a sack.

 

“Take that wall hanging; it will serve as a horse blanket if nothing else.” He pointed at a priceless Flemish tapestry and Hooper obligingly tore it off the wall … revealing a small door.

 

Colonel Lewis, white with rage, pointed at the trembling Laura Hobson and roared

 

“Open it!”

 

When the door swung open, it revealed a tall, thin young man in the robes of a Catholic priest, kneeling on the floor and passing his rosary beads through long, slim fingers. With a silence that was more frightening than his roaring, Lewis threw himself on the figure, tearing the rosary out of his hands, breaking it and casting it on the ground. He then put both hands around the man’s throat as if to strangle him there and then.

 

A pair of calm, green eyes met his and in a voice that didn’t falter, his own words were given back to him.

 

“Grant strength to your servant, Oh Lord and be his shield in times of trouble.” Lewis let go one hand and delivered a back-hand swipe that split the priest’s lip and sent him reeling.

 

“Mock me not, Papist scum, because I have the power of life and death over you. Your death will be slow and painful and I will take great pleasure in watching it happen.” He accompanied this with another punch to the head. The priest raised himself to his knees again painfully.

 

The green eyes did not waver and the ruined lip curled up in a gentle smile.

 

“You are my brother and I love you. Do with me what you will. Death will bring me only nearer to my Saviour and I shall bless you for it. Any suffering you visit on me will be as nothing to Christ’s sacrifice for us all.”

 

“Leave us!” Colonel Lewis turned to Hooper and the woman still in the bedroom behind him.

 

“Priest, I will have you roasted over an open fire and it will take you hours to die. Are you not afraid? Do you not fear pain?”

 

The young priest stood up and faced him, still smiling through the blood dripping from his mouth.

 

“Whatever pain you give me, my brother, I will offer up to Christ for the salvation of your soul. And if you burn me, then you will save me from the fires of Hell for I will die a martyr’s death and go to my Jesus in glory, singing for joy.” The light in his eyes was unmistakeable – he had no fear at all. “If you tear my body apart, my soul will pray for yours every day of your life, because I love you.”

 

For the first time in his adult life, Colonel Lewis knew doubt. He’d been a follower of the New Order since its inception, never questioning the rightness of his cause but he had never come up against such unshakeable faith before.

 

The young priest seemed to sense this and reached a hand out to stroke the Colonel’s hair, sticky with sweat from hours in the saddle under the heavy helmet.

 

“Lay down your burden for a moment brother and lean on me.” Before the Puritan soldier knew he was allowing it, the taller man had pulled his head down to rest on his chest and was cradling him like a mother with a baby, stroking his head and rocking him gently.

 

“There, shhhh, such a burden of hatred must be hard to bear. Lay it on me and let me carry it for you a while. Shhhhhh, there now, if you hate those who oppressed you in the past, you allow them to win. Do you not see that, brother?”

 

Against his will, Colonel Lewis found himself remembering the blacksmith’s hut where he grew up, his mother wasted from endless childbearing, dying so young and his brothers and sisters crying with hunger in the night. He had every right to hate the people that had done that to them but the priest’s voice was hypnotic and he realised he was tired, bone tired and weary of war.

 

“Love those that persecute you and bless them that hate you”, he was quoting “Learn to love, brother and you will find your burden easier to bear.”

 

Colonel Lewis raised his head and gazed into those clear eyes and found himself weeping as he hadn’t since he was a child. Very gently, the young priest bent forward and kissed him on the lips, leaving a taste of blood and the smell of incense.

 

“The peace of Christ” whispered the priest, and then said “Now you can kill me, brother. I am ready.”

 

Choking, Colonel Lewis pointed to the door.

 

“Go. Find some clothes and go quickly. God be with you.” He turned around and stumbled out of the door, blinded by tears.

 

“And God be with you too, my brother” Father Hathaway whispered as he slipped down the staircase to the servant’s rooms.


End file.
